


Soulmates for one night

by paperinik



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Minor Character(s), Not Beta Read, One Shot, Slightly Christmas-ish, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21719932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperinik/pseuds/paperinik
Summary: Brienne faces the consequences of a night out, wine and a temporary tattoo at a very exclusive party. Plus some sort of Christmas fluff, I guess.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 23
Kudos: 182





	Soulmates for one night

**Author's Note:**

> I've found the prompt of soulmates + unexpected pregnancy while lurking somewhere on Tumblr (don't remember where, sorry!!!) and then this story pretty much wrote by itself.  
> I wrote this in one go, it's my first modern AU and it's not beta read, so....everything here from grammar mistakes to plot inconsistencies is my fault!  
> Hope you enjoy this little story though, and please let me know if you like it or hate it (most of all if you like it ;) ) ...and Happy Holidays!

What was she thinking, Brienne asked herself, while gaping at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test in her hands. She was seated in the bleak bathroom at the back of her workplace, staring at the stick as if that damned thing could answer her.

What had she been thinking when she had agreed to go with Maergery at a soulparty three weeks ago?

Twenty years ago soulparties were trendy nights where people went to have a chance to meet their soulmate. All the singles went there with the hope to meet the match to their soulmark and maybe make a handful of new friends along the way.  
Over time, these parties had evolved in extravagant, bizarre gatherings where the elite of King’s Landing would wear fake tattoos and met with strangers, their anonymity ensured by lavish masks.  
Finding one of the parties was not an easy task: the location changed every time and the next venue was announced at the end of each night, along with a secret password. Long story short, you had to know someone from the inner circle and in Brienne’s case that was Maergery Tyrell.  
She and her brother were regulars at these parties and they would often invite Brienne, suggesting she’d benefit from some “loosing up”, as they used to say.  
So, that fated night Brienne had finally agreed to follow her friend to the Dragon Pit, a fancy downtown club she’d never been before - _not that she’d been in many._

Truth was she had agreed because she had been feeling lonely that day.  
It was the first day of the Seven Weeks of Winter and like every year King’s Landing was suddenly lit with thousands of candles, lights and garlands of the Gods.  
Every year thousands of people from Westeros to Essos were drawn to King’s Landing to see this spectacle in person. It was the number one attraction in the capital according to Raventrip and one of those bucket list items _everyone_ had to tick off.

But Brienne was immune to the festive fascination: since her mother and brother’s deaths when she was just a kid, the holiday season had always made her feel sad, but since when her father had died too, the festivities had only made her feel lonely.  
Her friend Sansa and her family always invited her at their home in Winterfell for the Stranger week - the end and peak of the celebrations - and she loved them for that, but it was just not enough to make her forget the wistfulness that festivities brought.

So that night she had answered with a yes to Maergery.  
Brienne had worn her favourite blouse - the sapphire silk one - and borrowed an outrageously short skirt and an intricate lace mask from her friend and went out, ready to hit the night.

At the entrance of the Dragon Pit the flirty hostess had showed her the various fake tattoos available and immediately the picture of the legendary sword Oathkeeper had caught her eye.  
Her soulmark really was a sword, positioned on her lower back, but she had accepted long ago that someone with her looks would never find a match.  
After all, it was known that even though everyone was born with a soulmark, only a small percentage of the population met their matches. It wasn’t something she expected to happen in real life, let alone to her. It was more the kind of stuff she had seen in movies, and she had accepted it for what it was: an unavoidable mark on her skin she often forgot about.

So why not - she had thought - pretend to have a soulmate, just for once?  
She had asked to have Oathkeeper drawn in temporary ink on her wrist (“Funny,” - the hostess had commented - “it’s not a common choice”) and entered the club with Maergery.

While her friend had been busy flirting with charming men and women on the dancefloor, Brienne had sat at the bar, where after a while a gorgeous man had arrived, sporting the sword on his wrist too. Even if the mask concealed some of his features, she had been able to see how handsome he was: tall, lean, with amazing emerald eyes glinting behind his mask and framed by golden curls. 

Surprisingly, he had spoken to her and they had immediately clicked, starting to chat about swords and the age of heroes. Even more to Brienne’s surprise, they had went on, glass after glass of dornish red, talking about everything: the Seven Weeks, King's Landing, her home back in Tarth, his in… _where was he from again?_  
Memories from that night were a little blurry on the sides.  
Later on she had somehow found herself in a dark, quiet corner, making out with that handsome God. It hadn’t been the Warrior week yet, but she would have sworn she had met him in person.

And then... well, it might had been the wine or the racy atmosphere, or just the need not to be responsible for once, but they hadn't stop at kisses - she thought blushing, still sheltered in her work’s bathroom.

He had undone the first three buttons of her blouse and left a trail of kisses down to her cleavage. Then her hands had reached his muscular back through the collar of his shirt and he had pulled her skirt up, touching her. Finally, she had found his belt and… 

She still didn't know what was that had taken over her that night, it wasn't what these parties where about, but it wasn’t discouraged by the organisers either. So when he had gotten up with the promise to come back with another drink for both, she had realised what she had just done and had fled out of embarrassment.

At least she could sugarcoat the story for her baby one day and tell without lying that his - or her- father was the most handsome man on earth and had had her matching soulmark.  
It had been a temporary one, lasting just one night, but maybe she would omit this detail.

A sudden, firm knock on the door brought her back to reality.  
"Brienne, are you ok? You have been in there forever, we need someone at the counter" she recognised her store manager’s voice.  
“Yeah, sorry, I'm coming!” she answered aloud, speaking at the door.  
In hindsight, making the test at work hadn't been the smartest choice, but when she had walked in the bathroom at the start of her break she had genuinely thought this was a false alarm.  
Brienne had been sure that in this way she would have gone back to work feeling lighter, she definitely didn’t expect the slight panic she was experiencing now.  
"Sorry Dany, women problems", she said with a guilty smile to the petite blonde when she opened the door, trying to arouse as much empathy as she could from her boss.

Her manager didn't say anything and Brienne went back at the front counter, hoping that focusing on work would help take her mind off of the tiny human growing inside of her until she could go home, cry, maybe call Sansa, and then, starting tomorrow, go back to her usual, practical self and start planning.

Her next customer was already in front of her when she arrived at the register.  
"Good afternoon and happy Mother's week" - _how ironic_ \- "How can I help?" She said unenthusiastically, keeping her eyes low on the screen in front of her.  
"A knight-sized essosi roast macchiato, cinnamon on top please" the man in front of her said. His voice was familiar, but she didn’t bother to look and see if he was a regular at the coffee shop. She didn’t have the energy to _make his customer experience special_ \- she recalled mockingly the words from the last staff meeting.  
“It's 3,50 dragons. What's your name?" She went on, aloof, her fingers ready to type the order.

The man's hand entered her field of vision to pay the due, and there, right there in front of her, she saw a tattooed sword on the wrist. She had already seen that sword, inked on the same wrist, a fortnight earlier or so at the bar of that club.  
It wasn’t exactly Oathkeeper though, she noticed. In daylight she could see that the pommel wasn't a lion, it was more like a rounded ruby, and the blade was slightly shorter.  
She knew that silhouette, even if she hadn’t looked at it in a long time. That was _her_ sword.  
She lifted her gaze, surprised and confused, finding a pair of emerald eyes she had already seen once looking cheerfully at her.

"Jaime, my name's Jaime"

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is consensual and Brienne’s mention of wine is just her trying to find an excuse with herself. She wasn’t drunk at all.  
> Also my headcanon is that Jaime followed Tyrion at the Dragon Pit pretty much in the same way Brienne went with Maergery.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
